Bandwagon Drabbles
by notmagnificent
Summary: 50 prompts, 50 drabbles. // Ch. 42 now up: 'I realized I have missed the band Foreigner.'
1. Self defense

**A/N: I'm jumping on the bandwagon and starting my own drabble series. I came up with 50 words related to Booth and Brennan, and I'm going to try to complete a drabble or double-drabble for each. Wish me luck...**

**I re-uploaded this one. Because I'm an idiot, I accidentally used the name of the gang instead of the name of the letter.**

**Prompt: Self-defense  
Word count: 104 (close enough)  
Category: Angst**

He felt no remorse.

As agent Booth held the cool gun to Ortez's forehead, he felt nothing. He knew that if it came right down to it, he _would_ kill the gang leader. Without thinking twice.

Booth had once vowed never to take a human life again unless in self-defense. But this time, the feel of a gun pressed against soft, warm flesh, the feel of adrenaline coursing through his veins, it did not feel wrong. He realized that Brennan was somehow a part of him now.

It was self-defense.

He whipped around and shoved the gun in Ortez's face. He felt nothing.


	2. Storm

**A/N: Well, I can't say I'm happy at the way this turned out. But, well, I am my harshest critic. So, I'm hoping that my lack of self-confidence in this double-drabble is just a result of my low self-esteem.**

**Prompt: Storm  
Word Count: 200 (double drabble)  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort**

The rain poured outside. Brennan stormed off into the tempest, Booth watching her from the window. Neither of them remembered what the argument was about.

Brennan stalked off to her car, salty tears mixing with the downpour. Her heels clicked sharply against the sidewalk as she tried to get away from him as fast as possible. Sobs racked her body as she fumbled for her keys. _He hurt me._ The steady mantra repeated itself in her head. _He hurt me. They always do. He hurt me. They always do._

Without warning, he appeared from the torrent and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. After some hesitation, she accepted his peace offering and cried into the crook of his neck. "I won't ever leave you, babe."

"You don't know that," she whispered back, trying to keep her voice level and her walls strong. _They always hurt me, and they always will._

He pulled away slightly, enough so that he could look into her lovely turquoise eyes. "Yes, I do." She pulled him back to her and wept tears of sadness for all her lost loves, and tears of joy for the new ones.

The rain poured outside.

**Now, I think you can guess what I want you to do now. Yes, that's right. Just move your mouse to the little blue-ish button...No! Don't report abuse!**


	3. Line

**A/N: I find this very cute, but I think I set it up badly. Oh well.**

**Prompt: Line  
Word Count: 175 (1 and 3 quarters of a drabble... .  
Genre: Romance**

_Line._ The damned line. Booth paced his office, mulling over the events of the last hour. They were having lunch at the diner, as always, and she had gotten some ice cream on her upper lip. He had simply cleaned it off. With _his_ lips. Well, it wasn't his fault. She just looked so damn cute. She had indulged in the kiss, but when he pulled away gently, she said, "We can't do this." He had asked why, and she went on a rant about _his damned__ line!_ About how people who work in high-risk situations can't have relationships. He drew the line, shouldn't he be able to abolish it?

A knock was heard on his door, and—speak of the devil—there was Brennan.

"Hey," she whispered, before approaching him. She stood way too close to him, a fact that certainly did not go unnoticed by Booth.

"What about the line?" he asked sarcastically.

"Do you have an eraser?" she retorted, a smile on her voice, before raising her lips to meet his.

**You know the drill.**


	4. Scared

**A/N: Again, I don't really like this one. :(**

**Prompt: Scared  
Word Count: 202  
Genre: Angst/Romance**

She clutched his torso fiercely, as if she held tight enough, he wouldn't have to leave.

"Why did Cullen give _you_ the job?" she asked between sobs.

"Because," he explained, his arms fighting not to hug her in half. "I'm the best suited for this undercover op."

"But five weeks?"

"Yeah."

She looked up and saw his tear-stained face. She wiped under his eyes with the pad of her thumb. "Are you scared?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "but I'm scared all the time."

A troubled look swept across her features as she asked, "Why?"

He sighed. "In the army, I was afraid that I wouldn't make it back home. Whenever we get a case, I'm afraid that I won't be able to catch the bastard that did it. I'm afraid of a lot of things, but most of all, I'm afraid of losing you. Whenever you are out in the field, provoking some murderer, I'm scared that I will fail to protect you. That one day I won't have anyone to hug when I get too scared, kiss when I feel lonely and used up. That I'll wake up and you won't be right there beside me."

A tear fell from his cheek.


	5. Learn

**A/N: I'm actually **_**happy**_** with this one!**

**Prompt: Learn  
Word Count: 104  
Genre: Romance**

They learned a lot about each other that night. She learned that he cared for her much more than he'd let on. She learned that the feeling of his tongue sliding against the roof of her mouth was enough to bring her to her knees. He learned that she liked to be on top. _Figures,_ he'd thought. He learned that she was a cuddler, much to his surprise. She learned that sleep was the only time in which he looked..._vulnerable._ He learned that waking up next to her was the most exquisite feeling in the world.

And they decided that learning wasn't so bad.


	6. Tell

**A/N: I got a chain letter on my Facebook Superwall that read as follows:**

_**Have you ever loved someone so much you couldn't tell them? Have you ever had a sleepless night because you couldn't stop thinking about them? Have you ever felt so lonely that you cried yourself to sleep? Have you ever lost someone you loved and prayed every night for them to return? If you have ever felt like this...**_

**Since my muse is on crystal meth today, I dug four prompts out of there and have four new drabbles coming up for you! :D Oh, by the way, this is in Booth's POV, in case you couldn't pick that up from just reading it...  
**

**Longest. Author's Note. Ever.**

**Prompt: Tell  
Word Count: 125 (Drabble and...one fourth...)  
Genre: General/Romance**

* * *

I can't tell her. There's no way I can. If I ever tell her how I feel...that I am _in love with her..._God, I can't imagine what she'll do. She will push me away and fight me back until there's nothing left of me, I just know it.

I have decided it's better to be in this weird relationship..._limbo_...than to have nothing at all between us. I can background check all her boyfriends until she finds a flaw and leaves him, we can share all the hugs and mistletoe kisses we want, and we can be stuck in limbo, _not _going at it like bun_..._Dammit, Booth, stop it! She can't know. Of course not.

My feelings? Those are things Temperance Brennan will _never_ know of.


	7. Sleepless

**A/N: This is the second in my mini-series, prompted by the chain letter I posted in the author's note in chapter 6.**

**Prompt: Sleepless  
Word Count: 100!  
Genre: Romance**

* * *

I love to watch her sleep. Her mouth hangs slightly open, and her body is completely relaxed. I rarely get to see that.

But sometimes, she has nightmares. She'll thrash and kick me awake, if I'm not already. Her screams chill me to the bone and make me want to kill the bastards that did that to her. I'm sometimes up until four thirty just holding her, reassuring her that she's is our bed, not several feet underground, not in an isolated cave in Guatemala, not about to be chewed by dogs.

She's my Bones, though. I don't really mind.

* * *

Please review! They're like gummy worms for me, and trust me, I am a girl who loves her gummy worms. :D


	8. Lonely

**A/N: This is the third in my mini-series prompted by a chain letter I received (the chain letter is posted in the A/N of chapter 6).**

**Prompt: Lonely  
Word Count: 104  
Genre: Angst**

* * *

Five weeks. Five weeks. _Five weeks._ I couldn't stop thinking about it. About the empty space next to me when I slept. About the three and a half weeks left until I saw him again. About how everyone should have been infuriated with me and my lack of emotion for the past one and a half weeks. I couldn't help it. He left me, and even though he was coming back in less than a month, I couldn't stop thinking that he would be gone forever.

My expressionless face lost its will to survive, and a lone tear escaped the corner of my eyes.

* * *

Now, I think you know by now what I want you to do with that little bluish button down there.


	9. Lose

**A/N: This is the last of my chain letter mini-series.**

**Prompt: Lose  
Word Count: 175  
Genre: Angst**

My hands did it all; they flung the small Peruvian idol across the too-small space of my bedroom. I picked up another artifact from a shelf on my bookcase and clutched it in my trembling hand. Desperate tears flowed down my face and uncontrollable sobs racked my body. I crumbled to the floor beneath me, my knees no longer able to hold steady.

_He said he'd never leave me._

He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. It was like he was immortal or something; my knight in shining armour. I twisted the engagement ring around my finger, turning the small collets inside my hand. The four diminutive diamonds, symbolizing the four years of our partnership, glistened in the morning sun filtering through the window.

_He said I'd never lose him._

I looked to the sky, pleading his God to bring him back to me. Science said He didn't exist, but if Booth believed in him, that was enough for me.

_Please,_ I begged the God I didn't believe in. _I can't do this without you._


	10. Genetics

**Prompt: Genetics  
Word Count: 106  
Genre:** **Friendship**

* * *

"You wanna come to the park with us, Dr. Bones?"

Parker looked up at the good doctor, brown eyes wide and charm smile in full force. She looked up at Booth, who wore the same smile and inviting twinkle in his eyes. _Damned genetics,_ she silently cursed.

"I've got work to do," she muttered lamely. They had already won her over and she knew it.

"Oh, come on, Bones," Booth pleaded. "Just a couple of hours. Those bones have been there for hundreds of years, I think they can wait till tomorrow." _Oh, there he goes with the 'logical argument'._

She sighed. "All right, I'll go."

* * *

Reviews are to me as funky socks are to Booth! :D


	11. Know

**EDIT: I re-uploaded this one, because I screwed up the format last time. Ick.**

**A/N: Okay, you all knew this was coming. The **_**gigantic**_** viewer response to **_**The Wannabe in the Weeds**_** has come to knock you over in a wave of fanfiction. And don't worry, there'll be plenty more of these from me.**

**Prompt: Know**  
**Word Count: 103**  
**Genre: Angst (kinda)**

She doesn't know why she did it. She saw the gun lying there, saw the bright red blood dripping from his chest, the shocked look on Pam's face. The bullet was meant for her. But more importantly, it hit _him._ She'd picked up the gun and fit her finger snugly on the trigger. She'd put a bullet through Pam Nunan's throat. Trying not to dwell upon this fact, she turns back to her partner, fighting to keep him awake. And yet she can't shake the thoughts from her mind.

She doesn't know what made her do it. She just knows she isn't sorry.

**I'm honestly too shocked at tonight's episode to write a witty review reminder, so...**

**Remember to review. –is shocked-**


	12. Shot

**EDIT: I re-uploaded this one too.**

**A/N: I like the sentence in there about why he took the bullet for Brennan, because I have a friend who asked her dad what it felt like to get shot. He said that it was like hell in a little metal casing, and that the reason he fought in the war was so that people like her would never have to know what a GSW felt like. :D**

**Prompt: Shot**  
**Word Count: 151**  
**Genre: Angst-ish**

I saw the gun that Pam withdrew from her purse, heard the shot, saw the bullet meant for Bones. _My_ Bones. I stepped in front of her quickly. I knew she'd hate me for it later, but at least she would be okay. She wouldn't have to bear the pain of a gunshot wound. I staggered to the ground and heard another shot go off. _She fired again?_ I thought briefly.

Before I blacked out, before I succumbed to the inviting darkness, I remember Bones standing over me, whispering words of reassurance.

"It's okay, Booth. I'm right here." My exact words when I rescued her from Kenton. She pressed my bloody chest to her breast and whispered more.

"You'll be fine. I'm right here, Booth." Her face started to blur a bit as the room got darker.

"Come on Booth, stay with me." Then, all was silent and very, very dark.

**Okay, I have to say I'm pretty disappointed at my recent reader response, so I am asking for a minimum of 5 reviews on this chapter before I post another. And that's not a lot of reviews at all. Sorry, but I **_**need**_** reviews! They motivate me to write more!**

**-is still shocked at tonight's episode-**


	13. Sure

**A/N: I decided to upload this chapter finally, because I've gotten several reviews on Facebook and various chatboards. Plus, I really like it. :D  
**

**Also, I would like to throw out a **_**big**_** thank-you to ****CSI-4077****. You have reviewed on (I think) every one of these chapters, and it's made a huge difference. I love uploading new chapters knowing that at least one review will be coming my way. So, thanks again for your wonderful response!**

**Prompt: Sure****  
Word Count: 208  
Genre: Pure, sappy, ROMANCE!**

He drops his lips onto hers, savoring the taste of her. The kiss is slow, tentative at first, but she needs more. She pulls him to her by his jacket lapels, and his arms snake around her waist and push her into him. He grins wickedly under her lips, and his mouth opens to her. Their tongues dance a fiery routine as they each push and pull the other. He slips his fingers under her tanktop and feels the smooth alabaster skin at her hip. She curls her tongue on the roof of his mouth, eliciting a groan from both, and he feels her tugging upwards on his shirt.

He pulls away quickly, as if he's just realized what he's doing, as if he can turn back. "Bones," he breathes. She had stolen his breath and held it captive in her own lungs. "Are you sure?"

She looks into his chocolate eyes, her ocean blues piercing them. She swallows the lump in her throat and nods her head, afraid that words will ruin the moment. Another grin spreads across his face, this one more elated, and she can't help but smile too as she tugs his hand toward the bedroom and whispers in his ear.

"I'm sure."

**Please review!**


	14. Family

**I had to re-upload this because the format screwed itself up. Nothing new added to the body, though.  
**

**A/N: I know there are like thousands of these out there by now, but oh well. You can read another.**

**Oh, and if you didn't get it, Hodgins is sleeping on Zack's couch. :D**

**Prompt: Family  
Word Count: 149  
Genre: Angst/Family**

* * *

He doesn't know why he did it. He just knows the feel of the soft leather couch beneath his cheek, the shiver that courses through him as cold air blows up from the garage below, the crippling loss he is experiencing. He pulls the blanket up around his shoulders and scans the darkened room. Zack's eerie absence haunts him until he has to shut his eyes

A sliver of light from the doorway catches his eye. She has come looking for him; his saviour in plaid pyjama shorts. She glides wordlessly across the bare wood floor and climbs onto the couch with him. He lets the tears fall now; there's someone to share his grief. They hold each other like that for a long time, nobody bothering to care about work tomorrow, or stiff necks in the morning. Only caring about the tears fallen, and their broken little family.

* * *

**Well, what'd you think? I'd like to ask you guys a question: what is your favorite chapter so far? What do you think I need to improve, work on, what do you think is good, etc? I love to hear what you have to say!**


	15. Innuendo

**A/N: I was watching The Killer in the Concrete, and at the scene where Brennan is examining Booth's tooth and he is groaning because she is touching it (-giggles-), about twenty innuendos ran through my head. I couldn't help but wonder what Angela would make of the scene… -evil grin-**

**Prompt: Innuendo!****  
Word Count: 109  
Genre: Humor**

Angela was diligently working over the Angelator on an old facial reconstruction.

"Ah! _Bones!_"

Her head swiveled towards Brennan's office. Was that Booth?

Angela set down her computer pad and backed out of her office quietly. Her high heels clicked against the tile floor as she crept over to her friend's office. She laid eyes on the scene inside, and had to stifle a laugh that would put a hyena to shame.

There was Brennan, with her hand inside Booth's mouth. Booth, meanwhile, was groaning and his knees were collapsing under him. Angela put one hand over her mouth and sighed lightly.

_If it were anybody else, I swear…_

**Reviewwww?**


	16. Bleed

**A/N: This is pretty painful. I mean, it was even painful to write. **

**This is set between WitW and PitH.**

**Prompt: Bleed  
Word Count: 157  
Genre: Angst**

The scalding hot water ran over her palms and between her fingers, peeling away at the silken skin beneath it. She scrubbed furiously, but his blood never did really come off. There was no pain; she was numb by now. Inside and out.

Her hands were bleeding now, but she didn't care. There was only _his_ blood there, washing her world away along with his life.

_The blood. It's not gone. It will never be gone._

The sobs only came harder as the water grew hotter, like liquid fire pouring from the spigot. She could only hope it would burn away the painful memories of him. The image of his face as sticky blood ran through her fingers flooded her mind, and a choked cry escaped her cracked lips. Her knees gave way beneath her, and she crumbled to the ground as a stunning realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

She would never be clean.

**Told you it was painful. Now send me a review to tell me just how painful it was! :D**


	17. Love

**A/N: Yes. I did it. I wrote a prompt based on the big L word. :D Hope you all like it!**

**Prompt: Love  
Word Count: 202  
Genre: Romance**

They lay in the park under a tree that offers no shade, for young Dusk turned in hours ago and stars hang in the sky precariously. Her head is nestled in the crook of his arm, and her hand rests above his diaphragm. She inhales deeply, the crisp fall air and the scent of his cologne invading her nostrils. The moon is so close to them that Brennan almost feels that she can reach out and touch it, even though she knows that the moon is many light years away. She sits comfortably beside him, swimming in her own thoughts.

Booth looks down at his partner, his girlfriend, his God only knows what she is to him, and sees her brow furrowed in thought.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asks slowly, drawing out the syllables.

She waits for a long time before speaking again. "Do you love me?"

Booth is taken aback by this question. She does not usually open herself up like this. He hesitates before replying, for he does not want to overwhelm her with feelings she cannot face.

"Yes," comes his simple answer. His grip tightens around her frame, and she knows that he means it, with all that he is.

**So, what'd you think? Sappy enough for you? Please review and tell me what you thought!**


	18. Read

**A/N: Okay, so I don't particularly like this one. Oh well.**

**Prompt: Read  
****Word Count: 176  
Genre: Family, I guess.**

Max Keenan had always been good at reading people.

So when he saw the man in the black SUV pull up, well, he first looked at the gun on his hip. That's got to come first when you're a wanted fugitive. Next, he looked in his eyes. He smiled when they darted to Brennan, as if asking what he should do next. He saw raw determination. He was _definitely_ going to catch the bastard that did this to his girl. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, and that was enough for him. When the man in the black SUV looked at Tempe, Max saw his shaded eyes darken with fury. How dare he leave her like that when she was but _fifteen,_ then suddenly reappear, only to leave her chained to a bench! Max saw the man curse under his breath, then run to his daughter protectively.

"Hey," Max spoke up. He turned his head to the fugitive. "Take care of her."

And Max knew he would. He saw it in his eyes.

**Review plezha?**


	19. Rain

**A/N: I was out dancing in the rain earlier today**** (:3)****, and this kinda popped into my head.**

**Prompt: Rain  
Word Count: 150  
Genre: FLUFF**

She steps in the rain and lets it wash over her face. It has been a hard case, a seven year old child caught up in the middle of mob business, and the rain flows over her like so many silken ribbons of moisture. He stands under the small awning over the entrance to the Jeffersonian and his penetrating gaze lingers on her moving form. The soft miasma of fog makes visibility limited, but all she needs to see is the rain falling in front of her face. She stretches her arms wide and seems to command the skies like the Roman Aeolus himself. The cold and calculating scientist washes down the storm drain with the rain and gives way to a side of her that her partner never knew. A small and hopelessly infectious grin crawls onto her face, and for once that day, things are not that bad.

**Review please!**


	20. Alive

**A/N: Ah! I haven't died! I'm terribly sorry for the lack of updates, but I tried to force myself to write something, and all the writers in the world know how well that ever works out...  
**

**Also, I think this one is kinda cute. **

**Random fact: the **_**very first draft**_** of this thing totaled out at 100 words the **_**first**_** time I counted it. -dances-**

**Prompt: Alive  
Timeline: Shortly after PitH  
Word Count: 100!  
Genre: Friendship**

Booth is sunken into his partner's couch when he feels two arms wrap around his waist suddenly.

"Uhm, Bones?" His chopsticks stop in front of his face, then slowly retreat back to the carton of Thai food. Her grip tightens on his torso in response.

"You're alive."

He sighs inwardly. _So that's what this is about._

His hands move to her face and cup it gently.

"Yes, Bones. I'm alive," he proclaims with a soft smile on her face.

She looks up at him with hopeful, childlike eyes. "Don't die again," she whispers.

His smile grows. "I'll try not to."

**On a totally random note, anyone who hasn't heard the song 'Inside the Fire' by Disturbed, seriously needs to listen to it. :D**

**Please review! They make my day (or night, I guess).**


	21. Fireworks

**A/N: I tried to do a 4****th**** of July drabble, in honor of the spiffiest summer holiday **_**ever**_**, but I couldn't get anything to turn out right until today. Ah, well. Better late than never.**

**As a side note, I really like the double meaning of this one's title. The fireworks in the sky, and the little sexual fireworks between B&B. :D**

**Prompt: Fireworks  
Word Count: 209  
Genre: Romance**

_Whizzzzzzz...  
Fwsh...  
BOOM!_

Glittering pieces of ash fell from the night sky, white and violet and scarlet contrasting with the black backdrop. A milky white finger was cast into the crisp nighttime air as the awestruck smile on Brennan's face grew wider.

"I love those kinds."

The smoky remnants of a weeping willow firework seemed to cling to the stars as a new explosion rocked the field, flinging color throughout the sky.

Brennan moved closer to her partner, trying to gain warmth from his heated body on the uncharacteristically cold July night. Suddenly, a thousand bangs and booms seemed to shake the heavens as the finale started. Brilliant hues of red and blue and green came to life and danced across the sky. Brennan's eyes danced with childlike wonder lost for so many years, as did Booth's, whose gaze constantly flickered between the fireworks and his partner. For several minutes this occurred nonstop, the booms echoing through their hearts and making the ground beneath shake with terror.

Suddenly, all was silent and the partners lay surrounded in complete ebony darkness.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

His lips dipped down to hers for the briefest of seconds before his head snapped back up to its previous position.

"Happy Fourth of July."

**Please review! I'll be even happier than I was when I went to the fireworks show last night!**


	22. Cloud

**A/N: This was prompted by sentence #44 in the fic **_**Prismatic.**_** It's written by Lerdo, the oh-so-famous writer of **_**All That Lies Between Us.**_

**Prompt: Cloud  
****Word Count: 104  
****Genre: Hurt/Comfort**

Booth sighs; Brennan looks up from her Mee Krab.

His heavy head is buried in tired hands and deep brown eyes are clouded over thickly. She can't see his eyes or face, but even she knows what he is thinking about. The case has been hard: war veteran tortured to death by crazed protesters.

"Booth?"

He doesn't lift his head, for he doesn't think he has the energy.

Her hand moves to his thigh as she remembers Angela's wise words.

_'Sometimes a simple touch is enough.'_

"I'm sorry."

His head surfaces.

"Thanks, Bones."

And for what seems like the first time today, he smiles.

**Please review!**


	23. Stretch

**A/N: I got the idea for this from a Harry Potter smut fic that I read when I got bored at my friend's house. :D And I don't even read Harry Potter.**

**Oh, and I upgraded my info list thing!**

**Title: Stretch  
Genre: Romance/Family  
Timeline: After Booth and Brennan have had children.  
Word Count: 165  
Established Relationship: Yes**

Her hands stop his lips from reaching her pale stomach.

His gaze travels from her smooth tummy to her face, flushed from arousal. "What's wrong?"

Her hands move back to the bed and stop at her sides. He only catches one word out of her reply.

"Ugly..."

He ses the red and silver streaks of the stretch marks marring her skin. Her hands move back to her stomach.

"No. Don't look."

His hands cover hers slowly and move them away, and he touches his lips to every indivdual pinkish streak.

"They're beautiful."

Her head shakes slowly, but his piercing gaze forces it to stop.

"These little stretch marks represent our family. What we have together. And that," he presses another kiss to her tummy, "is beautiful."

She smiles. "You know, maybe these aren't so bad after all."

"You see, Bones?" he smirks. "I'm always right."

"Oh, you're always-" she starts to say, before his lips come crashing onto hers.

**Please review!**


	24. Gamble

**A/N: Wow. I am really on a roll with the whole Booth angst/flashback thing, aren't I? Hm.**

**-EDIT-**

**I just realized something. I forgot to give credit where credit is due! D: This drabble was inspired by ****Hutch113****'s **_**Bones Drabble Series,**_** chapter 9: 'Fall'.**

**Title: Gamble  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Timeline: During **_**The Woman in the Sand**_**  
Word Count: 200!  
Established Relationship: No**

Booth could finally see it. The dreaded casino. He had hoped never to set foot in another one again.

_He remembers it all too clearly. The sounds of winning. The formidable and rather unstoppable draw to the huge rectangular tables. The smell of alcohol wafting over from the bars, urging you to lay waste to more of your money._

_The feel of dice in your hand._

_The sound they make when they roll on the table._

_The sly chuckle of the dealer when he greedily collects what's left of your money._

"I can't Bones."

She looked at him curiously for a moment. "Well why not?"

He rubbed the nape of his neck slowly. "I...I just can't, alright Bones?" His hand retreated to his pocket, itching to feel the plastic of his lucky poker chip. Her hand stopped it at his waist, and grabbed it firmly.

"You can do it, Booth." His fingers ran over her knuckles smoothly, immediately forgetting their craving for plastic. His tongue darted out to moisten his dry lips.

In reply, he turned to the large flashy doors and took a slow but steady step, intertwining his fingers with those of his partner.

**Please review!**


	25. Fear

**A/N: TWENTY-FIFTH DRABBLE! I am already halfway done with this. :D I would like to thank all of you who have reviewed with gusto over the past chapters (especially Hutch113 and CSI-4077), those who reviewed occasionally, and even the lurkers. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you guys.**

**Title: Fear  
Genre: Angst  
Timeline: During Brennan's pregnancy  
Word Count: 137  
Established Relationship: If you want one...  
**

She thought she knew fear in Guatemala, when the gun was pointed to her head and burly Guatemalan men whispered taunts and death threats in her ear. She thought she knew fear six feet underground, trapped in a car with only a spare tire, a broken cell phone, and a car horn to get her and another out alive. She even thought she knew fear when the little blue stripe appeared from the white background and she tossed the pregnancy test into the trash, choosing to deny this for as long as possible.

But nothing Temperance Brennan had ever felt before compared to the bone-chilling fear racing through her veins when the freezing cold ultrasound jelly was spread over her swollen belly.

Until she saw the shock-still image of her own child, already dead and forever gone.

**Now wasn't that just heart-wrenching? I'd love to hear about it in a review!**


	26. Painkillers

**A/N: This was slightly inspired by ****Celia Stanton****'s**_** Counterbalance**_** (category: In Plain Sight)**_**,**_** which is one of the most well-written and stunning fics I've ever read. That's where the writing style and the inspiration for all the pretty similes and other fancy writing techniques came from. :D**

**Title: Painkillers  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Timeline: During **_**Two Bodies in the Lab**_**  
Word Count: 162  
Established Relationship: No**

_Bang!_

The loud rip of bullet tearing through flesh resonated in Booth's ears. His gaze lingered on Kenton's limp body for a split second, as if to say, _Ha. Suffer for what you did to her._ He would later say he took it back, but nothing slips past the eyes of the Lord, and only He and Booth know that he meant every word of it.

The wrenching sobs of his partner brought him back to the present.

_Gotta get Bones._

He raced over to her, despite the blinding pain in his arm and shoulder, and tugged at the rope relentlessly. Finally, he shoved her ropes over his head. The staggering pain that set ablaze his entire upper body almost forced him out of his noose, but he swallowed, chewed, and digested the pain as he heaved her hands off the gnarled hook.

Her heavy breathing was like a shot of morphine, her sobs like stitches over his broken heart.

_She's alive._

**Review? Pretty, pretty please with season 4 on top?**


	27. Bullseye

**A/N: Ack! I haven't updated this in almost a month!**

**This drabble is dedicated to all of those who lost their lives, or maybe just a little piece of themselves, on that mournful day in 2001.**

**Title: Bullseye  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Timeline: September 11, 2008  
Word Count: 200!  
Established Relationship: No**

_Josh and Camille – Central Park  
__Saroyan Family Reunion  
1996_

The blurry scrawl neatly decorating the top of the photo stared silently at Cam, a reminder of so many years past. She flipped the glossy photograph over tentatively and sighed. Her fingers gently caressed the image of the strong young man in his early twenties that rested on the page.

_Joshua…_

Tears lapped at her eyelashes softly as she remembered that fateful day, already seven years ago. Her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Cam?"

Her head whipped around, ponytail swishing around her shoulders delicately.

"Angela." She wiped at her eyes hurriedly, trying to hide the pain.

The graceful artist threw a mournful glance in her direction, landing a perfect bullseye.

"You wanna…go get a drink?"

Cam sighed again, gently this time. "Nah. I've got work to catch up on." Angela cocked her head slowly, then nodded.

"M'kay. Offer still stands if you change your mind." She smiled lightly.

"Thanks, Angela." As the younger woman turned and disappeared, Cam pressed a gentle kiss to the wrinkled photograph and tucked it into her breast pocket, hiding it from the rest of the world.

_Time to face another day._

**Please review! I would love to hear your personal accounts of that day.**


	28. Fly

**A/N: I have no idea where this came from. Ah well, enjoy anyways!**

**Title: Fly****  
Genre: I don't even know  
Timeline: Present  
Word Count: 109  
Established Relationship: If you want…**

She looks down, and her heart stops. The wind whistles a terrorizing tune in her ear and curls its airy fingers around her face. Her hair lashes at her cheeks, red from the cold wind. She must be up at least two hundred feet. Definitely high enough to make the people below look 'like ants'. She clutches the bar like it is her only lifeline, and her lips curl in a grimace, a whimper escaping.

_I'm going to die._

Suddenly, she jerks forward, and now she is falling…

Falling…

_Falling…_

Suddenly, she hears the rough voice of her partner:

"_Come on Bones, put your hands up! It's a rollercoaster!"_

**Lol, that was so random. And I had you scared, didn't I?**

**Not really.**

**But review anyways!**


	29. Remember

**A/N: Poor Angela. She's always been the most emotional of the Jeffersonian employees, and we got to see her hit **_**hard**_** in the first season especially. I can totally see her doing something like this.**

**-EDIT-**

**Okay, I totally forgot the dedication. The inspiration came to me when I was looking at the eight facial reconstructions for the unidentifieds in the John Wayne Gacy case. Seeing the chilling, empty look in their eyes and knowing that these were people who had _nobody_ to speak for them, that scared me. Like, really, deeply _scared_ me.**

**So, with that in mind, this is dedicated to the thousands of John and Jane Does out there, waiting for their final rest.**

**xx.**

**Title: Remember  
Genre: Way mild angst  
Timeline: Whenever  
Word Count: 127  
Established Relationship: No**

She has a scrapbook. It lies on an empty shelf on her bookcase, in some forgotten corner of her office. It is only opened every so often, and she likes it that way.

A sort of limbo for John and Jane Does, this book holds facial reconstructions from victims long gone. These people with nobody left on this earth to care, she figures, must have _somewhere_ where they are remembered and respected.

And one by one, as they find their final resting places, they are crossed out with a silver marker. She is sure that they would appreciate this small vestige of their lives, at least until there is a name to all those bones.

But maybe that is just enough to keep _her_ from going insane.

**Please review!**


	30. Time

**A/N: Okay, so today I was sitting on my couch, wondering how Booth would react if Brennan died. It'd be bad, I'm sure. But what if she was tortured and killed by some crazed psycho? Surely Booth would be even angrier. Well, what would he tell Parker?**

**And here we go.**

**Title: Time  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Timeline: Long after Brennan's death; Parker is sixteen.  
Word Count: 138  
Established Relationship: BB if you wish it so…**

"Hey, dad."

Booth looked up from his book, pushing the reading glasses lower on his nose.

"Yeah, Parker?"

He turned his gaze to the floor, shoved his hands in his pockets, then looked back up again. "How'd Bones die," he said, declaring rather than asking. Booth froze.

"I–I told you, son. Shootout on the job."

Parker leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen. "Yeah, but how'd she _really_ die?"

Booth looked at his son, his son who he loves _so damn much_, and sighed.

"Do you really want to know?"

Parker straightened out and stepped closer to his seated father.

"Yeah."

Booth started to shake a little. He closed his eyes and paused, terrified of continuing. The shaking stopped.

"You got time?"

Parker placed his hand on the wingback armchair adjacent to his dad and sighed.

"Yeah."

**Totally random. Whatever. Review anyways!**


	31. Explode

**A/N: Okay, so over Martin Luther King Jr. weekend, I took a trip to Memphis, Tennessee. It was awesome. :D ****O****n the twelve-hour drive to said awesome place, I got really bored. I put my mp3 player on shuffle, got out my pen, and wrote about the first song that played, which happened to be Look After You by The Fray. Specifically, I was inspired by the following lines:**

**_If I don't say this now, I will surely break  
This 'most assuredly' counts_**

**Oh, and I am excited to say that I have reached 20,000 hits!!! Thanks to all you reviewers, dedicated readers, and lurkers. I obviously wouldn't have been able to get here without you. :D And remember, I write this stuff for _you guys,_ not for me. **

**Title: Explode (I know, the title sucks)  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Timeline: Whenever…  
Word Count: 190 **

"Bones," he muttered, so quiet she almost didn't hear him above the rustling her coat made as she removed it from the tree and packed her things up for the night.

Unfortunately she did, and her sparkling crystal eyes turned to him. "Yes, Booth?"

He leaned his head against the headrest attached to the couch and looked up at her. Two fingers moved to his temple; to the outsider it looked as if he was casually propping his head up, but underneath his fingertips hot blood pulsed through his veins hard enough to make him explode. His fingers came away with a slick sheen of sweat coating them. The lump in his throat stuck there, and it almost made him choke on his next words.

"Do you…want to go grab some dinner?" He paused, and silence filled the room.

"Like, a date kind of thing?"

And now she was frozen, hands latched to the top button on her coat and pink lips slightly parted. Booth straightened in his seat and looked at her with expectant eyes.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, and fled the room as quickly as possible.

**All right, prepare yourselves (especially those of you who know me well)...**

**_I might be continuing this one!!!!!!_**

**-cheers resound through the net-**

**And please review! The feeling is even better than when you see your house far off in the distance at the end of a 12-hour drive. Plus, if you want me to continue this, you've gotta tell me.**


	32. Patience

**A/N: Yes, I am alive! Sorry for the lack of updates lately. T_T Real life has been catching up to me, plus I'm totally absorbed in my fic for the House-themed Sick!Wilson contest on LJ.**

**Title: Patience  
Genre: Angst  
Timeline: After the season 4 finale  
Word Count: 139  
WARNING: Yes, this fic is based on a spoiler for the s4 finale, though I'm pretty sure there's nobody in the world who hasn't heard about this one yet.**

28.8 million. I have 28.8 million viable sperm in three millimeters of my…stuff, or so I've been told.

And as I sit on the edge of the bathtub with her, staring at the little white stick, I wonder what the odds were that my little guys…_completed their mission, _so to speak.

She shakes the stick, obviously frustrated with the speed–or lack thereof–of the pregnancy test. Her brows are furrowed and she looks like she is about to throw up, so I put my hand on her shoulder and look at her. _Be patient._

The déjà vu makes my head spin as she shakes the test again, and I can't tell whether I want it to turn out the same way as last time or not.

One little blue line appears in the window; it is negative.

_Damn._

**Please review!**


	33. Gratitude

**A/N: I don't think there's a writer in the world who isn't going to write an episode tag for 'Mayhem on the Cross.' To give you a little context, this was inspired by Booth's little mini-story: "If it wasn't for my grandfather, I probably would've killed myself..."**

**Title: Gratitude  
Genre: General  
Timeline: A couple weeks after 'Mayhem'  
Word Count: 158**

"Mr. Booth, you have a letter."

The nurse, baby-faced with her soft cheeks and sky blue eyes, entered the room and set a small envelope on his nightstand. Grey wisps of hair fluttered about his ears as he scuttled along the floor in his wheelchair, and the door shut as he plucked the parcel from the table.

The return address specified that the letter was from a lady named Temperance Brennan; he vaguely remembered the name. The sharp ripping sound of his shaky fingers sliding themselves under the flap of the envelope pierced the relative silence of room 218.

A sheet of paper sat waiting in the envelope, a neutral tan color with off-white pinstripes. Adam Booth carefully unfolded the paper and set it down on the nightstand, groping for his glasses with his free hand. Lenses now settled on his nose, he picked up the paper and read the note.

_Mr. Booth,_

_Thank you._

_Dr. Temperance Brennan._

**Please review!**


	34. Perfect

**A/N: I would like to thank you all for 100 reviews! For those of you who are writers, you know how absolutely amazing getting a review is. I don't write these for me, I write these for you, and you've shown me that my efforts are not in vain. Thank you guys so much!!**

**And, as a reward, I've given you a nice, fluffy double drabble. :)  
**

**Title: Perfect  
Genre: Romance  
Rating: T  
Timeline: Anytime!****  
Word Count: 219 (a little over, sue me...)  
**

She must have imagined this situation a hundred times, and this turnout had completely evaded her mind.

When he kissed her, it was completely surreal. His hands went to the back of her neck, and hers glided to his arms as her eyes slid shut. The kiss was not frenzied; they had all the time in the world to explore. The two of them backtracked into the bedroom slowly, one step at a time. Pacing themselves. Clothes came off gradually, and ended up beside the bed, not flung over the mirror or strewn across her desk.

The finale was accompanied by soft whimpers and grunts, instead of showy moans and screams. Unlike in the romance novels her mother used to read, their bodies did not "mold together perfectly." They slipped up a couple times, and she even came out of the ordeal with a bruise on her calf because it had slammed into the bedframe.

But when it was all over, when they were lying in bed waiting for the other to move, it was like clockwork. He pulled her to him, and she slid over to his body with ease. She pressed a gentle kiss to his ribcage as he stroked her hair, and they decided it was perfect enough.

**Please review!!!**


	35. Glasses

**A/N: I couldn't resist.**

**Title: Glasses  
Genre: Humour/Romance  
Rating: K+  
Characters: S. Booth, T. Brennan  
****Word Count: 175**

She was wearing glasses again.

They weren't the same cat's-eye glasses as before, but I could still imagine her the same way I did on the airplane. Bending over, so that I am sitting and she is at eye level with me. She's got a grey pencil skirt on, and a too-tight white blouse. The glasses, metal-framed and colored red, sit low on her nose. She pulls the bun out of her hair slowly, and when she shakes her hair out some of it hits my face softly. "Mr. Booth," she addresses me in that husky voice. She removes the glasses from her face and tucks them safely right in the apex of the V in her V-necked blouse, then opens her mouth to speak.

"Decomposition of the medial malleoli suggests our victim's feet were bound."

I snapped back from my...erm...daydream, and Bones was staring me in the face.

"Are you going to write that down?

"Uh...yeah. Medical malletolum, right?"

**Please leave a review? Pretty please with cherries and sprinkles and Seeley Booth on top?**


	36. Still

**A/N: I'm sure this idea has been done a million times, but for some reason I never really dove into the wave of EitB episode tags. Oh well!**

**Also, I'm not completely positive that I like this. Gah.**

**One more thing: I totally know I should be working on _The Junk Drawer._ I just keep getting ideas for _Bandwagon,_ and whenever I try to force myself to write up anything for my requests, it just comes out horrible. I'm really sorry!  
**

**Title: Still  
Genre: Angst****  
Rating: K+  
Timeline: A week or so after 'The End in the Beginning'  
Word Count: 113  
Characters: T. Brennan, S. Booth**

She grabbed the back of his neck in a frenzy and pressed her lips to his, bumping their teeth together in the process. His arms stayed at his sides, fingers splayed and joints locked. Booth remained shock-still while she attempted to kiss him, not quite sure what to do. She sensed his awkwardness, felt his stiff arms and open eyes, so her mouth opened and closed around his lips one last time before pulling away tentatively.

"Do you remember me now?" she asked vainly, voice wavering on _remember._

As he shook his head slowly, apologetically, tears welled in her eyes and she fled the room before the tidal-wave of emotion could engulf her.

**Please review!**


	37. Guardian

**Title: Guardian  
Genre: FLUFF!  
Rating: K  
Timeline: B&B are in a relationship, but there are really no time constraints.  
Characters: S. Booth, T. Brennan  
Word Count: 118**

She adjusts her position in bed for the thousandth time tonight, and Booth speaks.

"What's wrong?"

She squirms uncomfortably. "The mirror."

"The vanity mirror? What about it?"

A sigh, then "Bloody Mary."

He snorts.

"Bloody Mary, the children's monster?"

"It's stupid. Forget I said anything." The covers rustle as she turns away from him.

He frowns, then rises and pads into the bathroom. A cabinet door opens and closes, and her guardian returns, towel in hand.

He throws it over the mirror and returns to bed. She snuggles closer to him, her head nestled in the space between his neck and shoulder.

"Thank you."

He presses a soft but meaningful kiss to her temple in response. "Love you."

**PLEASE review!**


	38. With

**I swear I didn't die! Here's a new one, fresh from the ol' noggin!**

**Title: With  
Genre: Friendship/Light Romance  
Rating: K+  
Timeline: Brennan's pregnancy  
Word Count: 197**

He's there when she finds out. She acts like she doesn't want him to go, gives him a lecture about imposing, but she still has to suppress a smile when he asks to be there for the test.

Three months pass and Booth asks her why she picked his sperm instead of Fisher's. "Because," she replies, "I want my child to be strong and good-hearted, like you."

At five months, she slips up and calls the baby "our child." By the sixth, she has permanently adopted the phrase.

Halfway through the seventh month, she takes maternity leave to reduce the chances of exposing her baby to the uglier side of humanity. By the time the eighth month rolls around, she's begging Booth to work cases with her in his free time and forcing herself to stay away from the Jeffersonian.

Nine months, and she has yet to go into labour. The doctors are worried, and Booth is even more so.

Two weeks later, they induce labour. He's there for every contraction and push, and is the one to spread the good news of a healthy little boy while she holds her son and rethinks keeping him uninvolved.

**Please review!**


	39. Want

**A/N: I just love writing Booth fantasizing. This one's a bit more explicit than usual, but I couldn't resist. This is more in the vein of ****sleeplessinatlanta****'s **_**Only Between Us**_** (a fantastic series, by the way).**

**This is pretty much un-beta'd, so read at your own risk. :P  
**

**Title: Want****  
Genre: I've no idea what to call this. :/  
Rating: Strong T/Light M  
Timeline: Any time.  
Word Count: 250-ish. I know it's over, but it can be a triple drabble now. Sort of. ;)  
**

All he can see is that turtleneck sweater.

He knows what she is hiding under the thick collar. She had come in late for work today, and there is only one reason Bones _ever_ comes into work late, and really only one reason she ever wears turtlenecks.

He wants to grab her by the shoulders and shove her against the wall of her office; he wants to hear her moan and feel her squirm beneath him as he rips down the collar of her sweater and growls into her ear.

"_Who did this to you?" _he would ask, as if the little line of hickeys on her neck were scars, and in his mind's eye she doesn't answer because every thought she ever had was long gone at the feel of his erection pressed against her. He'd go straight for her neck with his mouth, lavishing violent and hungry kisses on top of the other man's marks, claiming her as his own. He would fuck her right there in her office, right against the wall, and when she screamed his name over and over in the _middle of the fucking workday_ everyone would know it.

And he would be glad.

**Please review!**


	40. Attention!

This chapter is being used as a filler, because some of you are getting notifications that you have already reviewed chapter 40.


	41. Revenant

**A/N: I swear, I'm not dead! My dry spell of writing has finally been broken (sort of), and I come to you with new fic! **

**Today, TNT was having a season 2 back-to-back thing, and Aliens in a Spaceship happened to come on. That episode, coupled with seeing a drawing I did awhile ago, gave me the inspiration for this.**

**Title: Revenant  
Genre: Verrrrrry mild angst.  
Rating: K  
Timeline: Directly after 'Aliens in a Spaceship'  
Characters: Angela M., J. Hodgins  
Word Count: 239**

13 hours after he is returned to her, safe and breathing and gloriously alive, she is the one who cannot sleep. He has awoken with unsteady breathing and a vise grip on her waist four times tonight, but while the _Triazolam_ and _Zolpidem _keep him out cold (or rather, warm and breathing) from one nightmare to the next, she has been restless since the first midnight cry.

While he copes in microscopes and macroinvertebrates, her mind is best placated with oils and brushstrokes; when she does not sleep, she paints.

**

A decent work of art generally takes her most of an entire day to finish, counting breaks for meals and nature's call.

She finishes this by 5am.

**

With an old baby monitor set up in her bedroom _(silly, but practical. He would enjoy that_), she has license to bury herself in her art. From the time she puts her delicate fingers on a brush until 5:17am when she puts it down, she does not once step back to critique her work. By the time she is halfway through the painting she partially forgets what she is doing, standing in pyjama shorts and a tanktop, painting at 3:49 in the morning.

But she finishes, and when he wakes up again at 6:33am, he is met with a beautiful representation of himself, bloodied and bruised but wearing proudly the most extravagantly gorgeous pair of wings he has ever seen.

**Now I know I totally lost some fan base over my looong hiatus, but I encourage you to review. Nothing gives me motivation more than reading your opinions.**


	42. Change

**A/N: So I'm not dead after all!**

**Title:** Change  
**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort?  
**Rating:** K  
**Timeline:** Missing scene from "Rocker in the Rinse Cycle"  
**Word Count:** 216

"You know," she says, in a tone more melancholy than it sounds. You expect it to go somewhere, but your partner ends the statement at that; you decide to pry a little.

"I know...?"

"Yesterday was the first time that I had listened to Hot Blooded since you were in the explosion. I realized I have missed the band Foreigner."

A sideways smile and a chuckle betray themselves for the grimace and self-deprecating laugh they really are, so you stop her from lifting her coffee cup to her lips.

"Is that really true Bones?"

"Yes," she says to the window that dutifully stands at her right side. "It frequently plays on the radio when I am driving, but I always changed the channel."

"Why?" you ask as the waitress you see a million and one times a week comes for your check.

"I remember the part of the song that was playing when the bomb detonated. The first time I heard it, it made me very sad, so now I do not play the song anymore."

You nudge her foot with yours and coo, "I'm sorry."

A pause.

"Thank you."

**Please review!**


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